


Lightning in a Bottle

by Sybariticfanfiction (SybariticReyna)



Category: StarCraft (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, Fluff ish, Mild Sexual Content, Mild painplay?, Praise Kink, Soft & Sweet, it was only a matter of time, listen sybaritic means self indulgent, lots of kisses, reader inserts are my weakness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 06:51:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15309804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SybariticReyna/pseuds/Sybariticfanfiction
Summary: me when i started writing reader inserts: these are gender neutral so everyone can enjoyme now: theyre all Gay and no one can stop these hands





	Lightning in a Bottle

Kerrigan and Sarah and The Queen of Blades are all very separate people in your head, but sometimes they blur together. Or maybe you just  _ want  _ them to blur, because kissing Sarah makes sense, while kissing a woman... a zerg whose hands are stained with the blood of  _ thousands  _ does not make sense. At all. 

And yet you lean into her, nubby nails digging into her hips in a vain attempt to keep her from moving away. Her owns hands are constantly moving, tracing the lines of your body as if she's trying to relearn it. Her claws leave red hot trails wherever they go, and if you weren't pressed up against the wall your weak knees would send you to the floor.  

She pulls your bottom lip between her teeth, digging in just enough to sting, before pulling away. She doesn't  _ say anything _ , but her smug little grin says enough. That's an expression you've seen many a time, and for a moment she looks like  _ Kerrigan _ , smirking as she reads your mind or takes on a difficult mission that she knows she'll excel at.

God, do you love her. 

The Queen's smile twists into something harsher, "That's a dangerous train of thought, human." 

You recognize her attempt to unsettle you with the use of "human", but her hands have settled on your hips and you can't summon up the proper annoyance. As if your being human is something  _ bad.    _

You lean forward, kissing the hardened carapace of her throat. She's still taller than you, her new form now in perma-heels. You suppose her musculature must've shifted to accommodate that without permanent damage and achy feet. If not she'd certainly be in constant pain. Your own toes curl in sympathy at the thought. 

Kerrigan tilts her face up, giving you access to the soft bits between her plates of natural armor. You kiss it gently, running your tongue over the edges and in the gapes. You can't mark her the way you want, leaving hickies as evidence that you were here like you could  _ before _ , but the breathy noises she makes are a wonderful consolation. One hand moves to the back of your neck, nails scratching and tangling in your hair.

Strange how you're the one doing all the work and she's making you tremble. 

You don't know if you should be saying Kerrigan or Sarah or acknowledging her as your queen so all you manage to gasp out is, "Kerri, please." 

Her laugh is rich and rough, although, you note with no small amount of pride, breathless. "Please what, my love?" 

_ Love love love, _ some (dumb) part of you repeats on a loop. 

Your praise-hungry streak makes an appearance as you shift backwards enough to look her in the eyes. "Are you good? Like... am _I_ doing good?"

The needy part of you wants her answer to be "yes" so much that you  _ ache _ . It fills your chest the same way heat fills your lower abdomen, the two contrasting sensations warring for your attention. 

She smiles, moving to cup your cheek. "You're doing wonderfully." 

The ache eases. The heat ramps up another notch. 

You... shouldn't be doing this. You know that. 

And yet all she has to do is sigh and dig her claws in the slightest bit in order to convince you to stay. To continue pressing little kisses up the column of her throat until you get back up to her mouth and she takes the lead again. 

She’s  _ alive  _ under your fingertips, body thrumming with psionic energy so strong it could fry your circuitry. She never died, you know that. She  _ changed,  _ she became someone new, but she’s too vibrant to have died. 

She hums against your mouth, moving back just far enough to say, “You’re going to get yourself in trouble with a mind like that.” 

“Not if you’re the only one who can hear me.” You respond. “Not if you’re the only one who wants to hear it.” 

She slow blinks, much like a cat. “Indeed.” She’s using that gentle voice that makes you think of Sarah, between missions and soft with sleepiness as she crawls into your cot. She was always more affectionate when tired. 

“I don’t sleep anymore.” She says. “Well. Not unless I’m injured, and that’s more like a coma.” She glances away from you, at the wall of the ship you’re currently residing in. It used to freak you out, being in a vessel that is quite literally a living creature, but now it's more of a comfort. There’s always sound or movement to reassure you you’re not completely alone. 

Kerrigan snorts, “Most would become paranoid.” 

“I’m not most people.” You laugh. “I’m kissing the Queen, after all.” 

She doesn’t seem particularly impressed by that response, but she lets it slide in favor of running her fingers through your hair. Her claws scrape (it doesn’t hurt, she’s yet to hurt you), tilting your head back. “Don’t forget said Queen deigning to kiss you is an honor.” She teases. 

“I would never.” You place your hand over your heart as if scandalized. The heat seems to have drained out of the air, although you can hardly complain when Kerrigan is smiling. As much as you love kissing her, seeing her happy and knowing you’re the cause is… wonderful. Humbling too. 

Her smile shifts from smug to soft. “How have you survived this long? You’re so…  _ weak. _ ” She doesn’t say it like an insult. 

You lean forward, kissing her cheek. “I have the Queen of Blades on my side.” 

“Is that how you would define our relationship?” It’s clearly rhetorical, but it makes you think. 

What  _ is  _ she, to you? A girlfriend? That seems a little too… clean cut, given the situation. And  _ lover  _ is just so flowery. She’s certainly not a “friend with benefits”, and technically the zerg aren’t allies of the terran. 

“We’re a mess, huh.” You finally say. 

She laughs and pulls you against her body, rough enough to make her armor dig in uncomfortably. “That’s one word for it.” She lays her head on top of yours, just like she used to after a hard mission. 

(One time in particular you remember heartbreakingly clear was with you on a cot in the medical ward, Kerrigan beneath you. Your leg hurt every time you moved, and she took it upon herself to keep you still by acting as your pillow. Back then she was still soft and yielding, her hair more tickly than prickly, and the warmth she provided was nothing short of heavenly) 

“I remember that. You had shrapnel, in your calf.” Her leg hooks around the calf in question, forcing you to bend it. “It still hurts, doesn’t it?” 

“In low pressure systems, at least.” You shrug. 

“Humans...” She drifts off, a single nail dragging up your side. She seems to be thinking something over, and although some part of you thinks you should be upset that you don’t have her undivided attention, most is content to be in her arms. 

At least that’s the same. Kerrigan and Sarah and the Queen all comfort you, in their own, sometimes rather awkward ways. Maybe that’s the common denominator. 

**Author's Note:**

> me when i started writing reader inserts: these are gender neutral so everyone can enjoy  
> me now: theyre all Gay and no one can stop these hands


End file.
